


The Singular Discomfort of Jaime Lannister

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All the Boners, F/M, JAB June
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 14:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11060760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: Jaime Lannister has become uncomfortable around his best friend, Brienne Tarth. Awkwardly uncomfortable.





	The Singular Discomfort of Jaime Lannister

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Coraleeveritas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/gifts).



> The first sentence of this fic has been in my google docs for about eight months. JAB June inspired me to make it a real fic.
> 
> This is for all the people at JBOnline. You are inspiring, interesting, amusing, talented, thought-provoking and Dragonstone women. Thank you all for keeping me sane through the hiatus.
> 
> Gifting this to Coraleeveritas because it's her birthday! Happy Birthday!

By the gods, Jaime Lannister did _not_ have a foot fetish. He pressed his thumbs into Brienne’s insole, and she let out another indecent and wholly inappropriate moan. His cock stiffened. It was _not_ a foot fetish. He had tested himself to be certain. He had spent a whole forty minutes looking a photos of women’s feet on Westernet. Nothing. Not a twitch.

He looked at her ankle, the soft, speckled, slightly dry skin of it. He didn’t have a freckle fetish either. He’d looked at pictures of various freckly women. And blushing women. Tall women. Muscular women. Blonde women. No reaction at all. It was as if his cock were sleeping.

Not that it was asleep _now_. He pressed against the bottom of Brienne’s foot and rotated her ankle, then stroked the hollows on either side of her Aenys’ tendon. She sighed happily. There was a spot she’d missed shaving, possibly for a few weeks. He toyed with the prickly hairs. He resisted the urge to kiss them. Jaime had come to the conclusion that he simply had a Brienne O. Tarth fetish.

That very object of his singular fetish sighed happily and sank further down into his couch cushions. Jaime shifted uncomfortably, wondering how he’d ended up in this predicament. He most certainly had _not_ intentionally lost their sparring match this time so he would take the consequence of rubbing her feet rather than winning a massage of his hands, as per their standard bet.

As an Emergency Room doctor, Brienne spent most of her days on her feet. That’s where they’d first met, when his hand had been smashed, and she was just a resident, learning how to suture deep wounds. In his pain, he’d insulted her and mocked her when she’d trembled at the task. Eventually, his taunting brought out her anger and before they both realized it, she’d stitched him perfectly.

Brienne had moved on to Orthopedics and then physical therapy rotation. Jaime had insisted she was following him during his long recovery, stalking him even, but in truth, he was grateful for her earnest care and the comfort of her blue eyes. She’d pushed him, cajoled him, mocked him, and insulted him to speed his recovery. And now he _was_ recovered, mostly. His right hand still ached sometimes, and nothing felt as good as Brienne holding his hand in hers, massaging each finger, each tendon. In fact, that had begun to feel _too_ good. _Uncomfortably_ good.

The last time, she had grasped his middle finger, gripping it, stroking it, he had thought he was going to embarrass himself. So he had lost their next swordfight on purpose, putting his competitive nature aside. Yet he’d found himself just as hard from massaging her feet, leading him to his exploration of the darker corners of Westernet.

Jaime squeezed each toe. Brienne murmured happily. He looked over at her freckled face, still slightly flushed from their work out. His cock seemed to point in her direction.

This couldn’t go on. He should just tell her what he was feeling. Instead, he danced his fingers up her calf to the back of her knee, where he knew she was most ticklish. Both legs kicked away from his hands as she sat up and squealed his name.

“Jaime! That was mean!”

He grinned at her. “You were falling asleep. I had to wake you up.”

She glowered at him. “I was _not_. I’d just gotten comfortable.” She closed her eyes, lowered herself back down and arranged her legs in his lap and _oh gods_ , the back of her calf landed directly on his erection. There was no hiding it. His plans of moving slowly, asking her out on a real date, maybe holding her hand… all lost.

He felt her muscles tense. Slowly and deliberately, she pressed her leg into his cock and moved it back and forth, as if she were unsure what she was feeling.

Jaime, on the other hand, was _very_ sure of what he was feeling. He groaned.

Her eyes popped open. Her beautiful, innocent, blue eyes. They looked at him warily as she started to pull back her legs. He made his decision. He grabbed her ankle and tugged, pushing her leg back down on his lap. No more pretending. No taking it slow.

She blinked at him. “What is that?”

He grinned at her. “You’re the doctor. I’m pretty sure you know exactly what that is.”

The red flush that had been only in her cheeks crept over the thick cords of her neck, down to settle in the hollow at the base of her throat. He angled his hips to press himself into the back of her calf. It was exquisite torture, but there was a chance she’d run from his apartment and never speak to him again. He would take what he could get.

Her mouth worked, trying to form words, her lips so red, her tongue darting out to moisten them. His hips jerked involuntarily.

“What一I mean, why _now_?” she mumbled.

He ran his hand over the top of her foot, across her ankle and up her calf, coming to rest just inside her yoga pants. He stroked the skin there. He could feel the goosebumps rising on her leg. He turned to look at her and raised his brow suggestively.

“You can’t mean一” she responded, looking down at her own body.

Jaime followed her gaze settling on her pert little breasts, the nipples now stiff peaks. His cock grew impossibly harder. “I can, and I do.”

She glanced at him briefly and then looked a way, a resigned expression settling on her face. “I suppose it’s been a while一” she stammered. “Since一you know一”

Jaime had told her all of his darkest secrets, even about his now-estranged twin sister, Cersei. She’d been shocked but understanding then. It was _now_ that she was missing the point entirely.  He chose to ignore her implication. “Not that long,” he responded. “I took the matter in hand just this morning, having spent the night dreaming of you, and again in the shower just before you arrived.”

She spluttered as he knew she would. “Be serious, Jaime. You don’t dream of me...like _that_.”

“I do. In fact, I spend half my time fantasizing about all the hot dirty things I want to do to you.” He stroked her bare calf for emphasis. She shivered. He looked up and into her eyes. There was something there, something lurking in the depths. Her pupils had widened.

She blinked, furrowed her brow and bit her lip. The blush which had previously faded made its way back over her cheeks. “Like what?” she asked.

He hadn’t thought it possible to be this hard and not explode. “Are you,” he paused, needing to catch his breath, “are you asking me to _tell_ you about the hot, dirty things I want to do to you?”

Those eyes met his, wide and clear. The dark pink of her skin turned a flaming red. She nodded slowly, once.

He needed no more encouragement. He turned himself on the couch and crawled over her, his body hovering just inches above hers.

“I’ll not be able to _tell_ you all those things, wench, without wanting to actually _do_ those things.”

She met his gaze and braced her hands on his biceps. He could feel the warm grip of her big, callused hands. “Okay,” she mumbled.

He grinned down at her flaming face. Her eyes evaded his.

“First, I think about kissing you.” He bit his lip, letting it slowly slip from his teeth as he savored that thought.

Her lips parted, as if in invitation.

He lowered himself down to her slowly, enjoying the feel of every inch of her body, his cock finding a happy home pressed into the juncture between her thighs. His lips hovered over hers.

“You do?” she whispered.

He was close enough to feel the puffs of her breath against his skin, sense the movement of her mouth below his.

“I do,” he answered, now focused on her eyes, her big beautiful blue eyes, as her pupils widened.

Jaime was just about to make good on his statement when her head rose from the arm of the couch and her lips smashed into his.

 

\--

 

Brienne reached to adjust her pillow, still half asleep but not nearly as comfortable as she should have been. She drifted into awareness. She was warm, much warmer than usual. And a little sweaty, and maybe a little sticky. Something rubbed against her hip, and she rearranged her legs, noticing a bit of unfamiliar soreness.

It was then that her eyes popped open, remembering what had happened last night. She was so warm because it wasn’t her duvet wrapped around her. It was Jaime Lannister, her very best friend and the jackass who had invaded her dreams. And he was _naked_. And _she_ was naked.

Jaime shifted against her, his hand rooting around under the sheet to find its way to her breast. He sighed happily as his hips relaxed into hers.

And she felt _it_. Pressing into her back. His _penis_. And it was _hard_.

She’d certainly come to know it last night. She blushed at the memory of touching _it_ , how _it_ had felt _inside_ her. Oh gods, this wasn’t a dream or one of her many fantasies. This was _real._

But what was it? Really? She’d let herself be carried away when Jaime had been rubbing her feet and caressing her legs. Somehow, in that moment, she had been ridiculously bold, caught up in her dreams of something more between them. Now, there was _definitely_ something between them. And it was poking her in the back.

Was this to be a one-time thing? Would Jaime be filled with regret when he woke? He was the only friend she’d ever had who didn’t, in some small way, pity her. Would he slowly fade from her life? Should she find a way to escape from his grasp and brush her teeth so that at least her breath wasn’t awful when he told her he’d made a mistake? How could _she_ have made this mistake? Was the sex, well, the best sex probably ever in the history of sex, worth losing her best friend?

Now that she’d had sex like that, what if she never had sex again? What if she never had sex with _Jaime_ again? And he had said things to her last night. Certain things. Certain _three word_ things. And she had said them _back._ Oh gods, what if he didn’t mean them?

“How can I sleep when you’re thinking so loud?” Jaime grumbled as he shifted again, closer to her now, with his _penis_ now nestled against her backside.

“You cannot _hear_ me thinking,” she responded, not knowing what else to say.

“Can too.” He kissed the back of her neck and brushed his thumb against her nipple.

She gasped.

He chuckled. “Now I definitely heard that. I heard quite a bit of _that_ last night. I’d like to hear more.”

“Jaime一” she tried to focus on words, on the conversation they should be having. “We should talk.”

He scraped his teeth across her shoulder and squeezed her breast. “I think not. This is the first morning I’ve woken up with you actually in my bed and not just in my dreams. I plan to take advantage.”

She felt his hips slowly and deliberately thrust against hers.

“You mean you want to…” she let her words trail off.

He rolled her onto her back and pressed himself into her hip. “Oh I most certainly want to.” He began kissing her shoulder, moving up her neck.

“But Jaime,” she groaned, “I have morning breath.”

“Me too,” he murmured as his lips pressed against hers.

Seemingly of their own accord, her arms went around him and pulled him atop her, her legs parting so he could fit between them.

He pulled back from her and grinned. “Not this time.”

Before she could even guess his meaning, he rolled them both and Brienne found herself straddling him.

He stroked her thighs. “Now this is the way I want to wake up.” He thrust up against her.

“Jaime,” she moaned as she ground down against him. She’d dreamed of this for so long. Now that she knew how it really felt, she couldn’t help wanting more.

He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom from the box of three he’d opened last night. He held up the foil packet. “Last one. Can you make it worth it?” He leered up at her, waggling his brows.

“Shut up,” she growled as she grabbed the condom from him. She clamped the edge of the packet between her teeth and pulled, opening it with ease. She pulled the condom free and handed the empty wrapper to Jaime. He crumpled it and tossed it over her shoulder to the end of the bed. She looked at him disapprovingly. He shrugged.

“Get on with it, woman, I can’t take much more,” he said as his hands began exploring her legs again.

With more ease than she’d ever imagined having, she had him fully sheathed and positioned herself above him. A moment of uncertainty took her

Luckily, he nodded furiously, “Gods yes.”

She sank down on him, taking him fully inside her. She threw her head back and almost shouted at the sensation. This was Jaime, her Jaime, inside her. Again. She began to move, finding her rhythm easily.

Brienne wasn’t sure what this turn in this relationship might mean, but she’d wanted him for too long not to enjoy this, to try to make it last, as it may never happen again. She looked down at him, trying to remember every sensation, every expression. Then his hands were on her breasts, squeezing, tweaking her nipples. Her head fell back again.

She felt one of his hands gliding down between her breasts, over her stomach, and then he was touching her _there_. It wasn’t going to last. She couldn’t hold back. She slammed her hips down, only to rise again and repeat the action until she could feel him swell inside her. She screamed his name as she shattered into a million pieces before falling into a boneless heap against his chest.

She buried her face in his neck as her breathing slowed. His arms came around her, and he began rubbing soft circles on her back.

“My Brienne,” he murmured. “My amazing, wonderful wench. Gods, I love you.”

She tensed. He’d said it again. This time, not _during_ , but after.

He kissed the top of her head. “I can hear you thinking again. Care to share?”

She rolled off of him on to her side. He twisted away and disposed of the condom before following her, propping his head up on one hand and pulling her close with the other.

“Maybe we should go, uhm, clean up and brush our teeth first,” she suggested.

“I think this conversation is more important,” he said.

She shifted her eyes away from him, focusing on the bedside lamp behind him. She inhaled. “I’m a grown woman, and maybe I’m not very experienced, but I understand that sometimes these things just happen. Jaime, I know that people say things that they don’t actually mean sometimes when they do things like this.”

“They do?” he asked, his voice a little too calm.

“We are both adults, right, and we shouldn’t expect things...from each other,” she went on, trying to figure out a way to say whatever it was that needed to be said.

He stilled. “Are you telling me you didn’t mean it?” His voice was frighteningly calm. It was the voice he’d used with Ronnet Connington right before breaking his jaw.

She fought through her confusion. “I’m not saying I didn’t mean it. I mean, of course _I_ meant it…” her voice faded as she saw the grin spreading across his face.

“Oh good, because _I_ meant it.”

She furrowed her brow, wanting to believe but still unsure. “You did?”

“I did.” He brushed the hair off of her forehead. “I’d like to wake up this way every day for the rest of my life.” He pressed his lips against hers.

“Really?”

“You stubborn wench, I love you.”

She felt the tension leave her body. She slung her leg across his hips and pulled him close. “Oh gods Jaime, I love you too.”

He grinned at her. “Now let’s shower. We can’t stay in bed all morning.”

She felt disappointment surge. Maybe he wasn’t as attracted to her as she was to him.  Then she felt something pressing into her stomach. She looked down and bit her lip at the sight. He seemed to swell.

“We have to go get more condoms. Now,” he growled. “It's uncomfortable walking around with an awkward boner.”

 


End file.
